


Eddie Spaghetti

by DeadManWalked



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Childhood Memories, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Panic, M/M, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, Pining, Reddie, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Romantic Friendship, Secret Crush, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 14:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20622710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadManWalked/pseuds/DeadManWalked
Summary: A short fluffy story of how Richie gives Eddie his nickname: Eddie Spaghetti.A chaotic movie night at Richie’s home with Eddie and Stanley, where Stan is the third wheel.





	Eddie Spaghetti

**Author's Note:**

> Another fluffy childhood Reddie story to mend my still shattered heart after IT Chapter 2.

The last day of school had arrived for the children of Derry and summer break was officially upon them. The sensation of electric excitement buzzed through the school halls until the final bell rung and they were free at last. The whole summer ahead of them to do what they wanted everyday without nagging teachers or hiding in school stalls to avoid Henry Bowers.

Richie saw only one way to properly celebrate such an occasion with his best friends: sleepover at his house without any parental supervision. His father had a retreat in San Diego for his job this weekend and his mother had chosen to go with him. They both, rather hesitantly, gave Richie permission to have his friends stay the night.

It was something he had proposed nearly a month before, begging and doing everything he could to persuade his parents. He never argued that they could trust him, mainly because he knew he couldn’t defend that argument, so instead he argued that they could trust Bill. Big Bill Denbrough, the most responsible of his friends and his parents personal favorite.

Wentworth was the first to cave into his sons wishes, humoring his silly voices and overly dramatic proposals. He’d especially liked the large messy diagram that Richie had drawn out on an old poster board, labeling the reasons why Bill Denbrough was trustworthy to take care of the boys for one night. There had been a separate sub section dedicated to Stanley’s Jewishness being a prime response why he was also to be trusted to handle Richie (though that argument wasn’t as appreciated since Richie’s mother gave him a lecture about using a persons religion as a stereotype).

Maggie Tozier was the more reluctant one in this situation. She tried her best to follow her husbands lead and humor Richie’s over-the-top arguments, most of which happened in the middle of dinner or right before bed, but in the end she could never see past the immaturity. While her husband found the argument “Bill Denbrough has long wanker” quite hilarious, she just thought it overtly absurd and crude. She said nothing in the matter other than “We’ll think about it, honey.”

The thing that pushed her over the edge and into agreement was the final grade markings for that quarter. Richie’s dedication to having his entire home to himself and his friends was something he managed to take seriously long enough to effect his report card. While his grades always averaged between A’s and B’s it was his behavioral marks that weren’t the best...until now.

He managed to shut up (or at least whisper) his snarky comments in class and refrain from causing as much chaos in class as usual. The task was a particularly hard one since Richie always struggled to stay still or quiet for any long period of time, especially hard not to make jokes or his voices, but in the end he managed just enough to move a bad marking to a slightly less bad making. Just like that his mother relented and he was victorious.

Until Bill got grounded. Of course he never told his parents that after finding out two days before that the main reason behind his victory wasn’t able to come. However, Richie was bummed out that one of his three best friends wasn’t able to come to his house at all. Bill always managed to find a way to make fun things better and better things the best, something that Richie always admired. It was going to be harder to celebrate without him.

That wouldn’t stop him from still doing it, though.

He had it all planned out for a month and was glad that his parents were lenient enough to provide a quarter of the things he asked for. While the complete lack of strippers and donkeys was a disappointment, he wasn’t surprised they were a few of the things not provided. There was lots of setting up to do on his behalf, so he barely yelled out a ‘see you later’ to his friends before racing off on his bike to head home.

Richie immediately set up a large tent fortress across his entire living room, stealing blankets and sheets and pillows from every room in the house. He attached different sections from as low as the floor to as high as the ceiling fan. Once completed, the entire fortress was closed off in perfect darkness that allowed only the sound and light from the television to shine through. Then he pulled out the large set of R Rated flicks his father secretly lent him for the weekend.

He laid out the horror films on the floor: The Shining, The Thing, I Was A Teenage Werewolf, and Alien. He knew Stan and Eddie would be reluctant, but at the end of the day they rarely said no to him. Especially since this was going to be the best night to watch scary movies that their parents would never allow them to see otherwise (especially Eddie’s mom).

Then, once satisfied, Richie crawled out of the fort and headed upstairs to the spare bedroom. His father had agreed to pull out the small twin bed mattress for him (thinking it would be used for one of his friends to sleep on), and Richie laughed to himself manically. He always had a dream of racing down the stairs on a bed mattress (because it hurt too much in just a box) and now he could fulfill that wish.

Richie got it set up for in the future before checking his watch for the time. His previous panic mode was increased tenfold when he saw that he only had an hour left to start dinner and prepare snacks. He leaped down the staircase two at a time before sliding to the kitchen (and almost slipping).

His mother was insistent that he didn’t actually cook anything, but rather reheated leftovers from the night before for dinner. She was weary that he would call them the next morning to announce the house had caught fire. However, his father hinted that morning before he left that there was enough ingredients in the cabinet to make Richie’s favorite meal: spaghetti.

It was also the only meal that Richie knew how to make on his own outside of Mac-n-Cheese. So he grabbed a large pot and filled it half way up with water before putting it on to boil. Then he moved to grab the grounded beef and set that on to cook, occasionally adding salt and pepper. It was perfectly browned and cooked by the time the water was bubbling up, so he added the noodles to the pot and moved the meat aside to warm up the tomato sauce.

“Shit, Shit, Shit,” Richie mumbled frantically as he checked his watch again and saw there was only 15 minutes until they were due to arrive.

He scrambled for random bowls from the cupboard and set them down. Then he poured different candies into each one, ranging from Reeces to Skittles to Nerds (Because that’s what they are). The pot behind him began to bubble over in his momentary distraction, sending him flying back to rapidly stir and lower the heat.

Richie determines the noodles were perfected and carefully shuffled with the pot over to the sink and began to pour into the large strained. Steam clouded his glasses until he couldn’t see. Distantly he heard the doorbell ring, shouting out a string of profanities before quickly pouring the noodles from the strainer back into the pot which he moved back over to the stove top, turning off the sauce heater as well.

The door bell rang again repeatedly from being rapidly pushed by Eddie on the other side. He knew that chances were Richie had already heard him, but just in case he didn’t get the message he rang it another 15 times for good measure. Just as he went in for another round, the door swung open to a frazzled faced and clouded glasses Richie.

Richie froze upon seeing Eddie standing there, having expected Stanley to arrive first. He forced a large fake confident smile onto his face, leaning against the doorframe with one hand and wiping his glasses with the other. Embarrassment rushed up and heated his cheeks.

“Edward, so nice of you to join me,” He said with an over the top posh voice. “Come in and make yourself at home, darling. Supper is almost ready.”

Richie stepped aside to let the other boy pass, allowing himself to cringe and slap his face with his hand once he was out of sight. He quickly fixed his hair and pushed up his glasses before continuing as though nothing had happened, gesturing around his house as they walked.

“This is my home! The missus did all the decorating so my apologies for the atrocious amount of paintings. To the right we have the staircase to the second floor, and if you look to the left—“

“I’ve been to your house before, moron.” Eddie said, shaking his head softly in amusement. “Stan here yet?”

“Nope, Stanny boy is late for the first time ever. His dad probably has him preparing for the dick cutting off ceremony he has to do next month,” Richie shrugged, voice back to normal as they walked to the kitchen.

“My mom would fucking kill me if she knew I was home alone at your house,” Eddie said before reaching across the counter to reach for a skittle before Richie slapped his hand away.

“Can’t spoil your dinner, Eds. Those are for the movies,” Richie gestured to his cooking and then went to grab paper plates for them both. “Besides, your mom thinks your staying at Bill’s so she won’t find out you’re here. Big Bill promised that he would cover for you guys if your parents called his house. So calm the fuck down and stop being a baby.”

Eddie reached across the counter and grabbed the spatula that was used for the beef, then turned and slapped Richie across the face with it hard enough to push the glasses halfway off his face. He watched as Richie paused midway into pouring sauce on Eddies Spaghetti, reached up to fix his glasses, then turned calmly to face him. Together both boys stared at each other in silence, tense and on the edge, and waited to see who would make the next move.

Eddie reached forward with the spatula and poked Richie in the chest with it. Then he poked again and again as a smile spread slowly across his face. Richie watched calmly before he suddenly reached forward and dumped the plate of spaghetti all over the boys hair, successfully stopping the pokes and winning the fight.

Eddie paused, mouth open in shock, as he felt the sauce and noodles spread across his hair. Richie took a moment to rub it in before pulling his hands back and smiled victoriously, then laughing at the sight. Eddie’s head was entirely coated with Spaghetti, his face a bright red, and he sputtered angrily to think of something to say that would properly express his anger.

“Gotta say you look quite cute like this, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie shrugged, turning to make a new plate. “The red really suits you.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Eddie shouted as he ran to the trashcan and pulled off the noodles. “Do you hear me, you little cunt? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Now that’s not very nice, Spaghetti Head. Maybe next time don’t be such a bitch and you won’t have your dinner on your face!”

“Stop calling me that, asshole! It’s not fucking funny because you’re not funny.”

“What’s the matter sweetie? You don’t like being called Eddie Spaghetti? I think it’s actually really fitting, because you’re all loose and floppy like a noodle,” Richie said, wobbling around like he was a worm. 

“I swear to fucking fuck—“

The doorbell rang once, signaling the arrival of Stanley. Both boys ceased their yelling before Richie moved to go answer, Eddie following not far behind as he plotted different ways to murder the other boy in his sleep. They opened the door to a calm Stanley, standing with his sleeping bag in his hands.

Stan looked up and was surprised by the sight that greeted him, though he supposed it was only a matter of time the two got into trouble without him or Bill around to prevent it. Richie innocently smiled obnoxiously, pretending like nothing just happened. Next to him Eddie stood, face bright red, with a pile of noodles and sauce sticking to his brown hair. Stanley sighed and asked nothing as he walked in between them, rolling his eyes at their childishness.

“Nice of you to join us, Stan the Man. I’ve made some spaghetti for dinner before we watch some scary movies.” Richie said as they re-entered the kitchen.

He handed the newly made plate to Eddie as though nothing happened, and Eddie was too hungry to bother arguing at that particular moment. So he took it gladly and sat down at the kitchen table as he waited for the others to join us.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cook,” Stan said, curiosity and horror mixed into his voice as he eyes the stovetop.

“I am a man of many talents, Señor. I didn’t know what exactly your Jewish rules of eating spaghetti were, so I kept the meat and stuff separate. Ya know, in case you can’t mix it or whatever the fuck.”

Stanley was shocked by Richie’s consideration, even if it wasn’t exactly right in this particular situation. Normally when it came to Richie thinking about Stanley’s religion it revolves around jokes and teasing. So he smiled and made his own plate before joining them both at the table.

Richie tapped his soda can and stood up, “Gents, I would like to make a toast. Today is the day we have been freed from our cruel and unusual punishment called Derry Middle School. Now we have a glorious three months of summer ahead of us, playing games in the arcade or going on adventures in the Barrows, and I expect us to make the most of it. Here’s to a summer full of awesome shit!”

“Here, Here!” The boys cheered as they lifted their own sodas to clink with his.

Richie laughed as he sat down and together they all ate. Stanley watched bemused as both the boys threw insults at one another, finding any reason to touch even if it was simply meant to come off as teasing. He watched as Eddie scooted his chair closer to Richie’s in order to steal food off his plate, despite having plenty in his own, as an excuse to be closer. Watched as Richie groaned and pushed Eddie’s face away with his hands.

Watched as they were secretly but not so secretly in love, two childhood best friends unaware of their true feelings for one another. 

“Stan, do you see this shit? This fucker smears sauce all over my fucking head and has the balls to get mad at me about it!”

“You’re not the only Kaspbrak I’ve spread my sauce all over,” Richie said, making a jerk-off motion with his hand. “Your mom didn’t complain about my sauce though, Eddie.”

Eddie slapped the hand back down, “You didn’t fuck my mom!”

“Yes, I did! In fact, we’re in love and she wants to marry me. Guess what that means, Eddie Spaghetti? Im gonna be your new dad,” Richie laughed. “Son, go to your room and you’re not allowed to come out until you’re not such a little bitch!”

“Go fuck yourself, Richie.”

Stan chucked softly at the ridiculousness of their argument. He finished eating the plate of surprisingly delicious meal and moved to clean up his area, shaking his head as he heard their bickering continue. He heard the phone ringing in the other room, pausing to see if Richie was going to get it before realizing he was too busy poking Eddie’s face, and went to go answer it.

“Hello?” 

“H-Hey, Stan,” Bill said from the other side. “H-how’s it go-oing?”

Stan paused for a moment to listen to the distant chatter;

“I know you did not just spill tomato sauce on my inhaler! I swear to fuck—“

“You’re not allowed to talk to your father that way, boy! Don’t make me get my belt—“

Stan pulled the phone back up to his ear, “About as well as it could be, actually. Richie made us spaghetti and I haven’t died of food poisoning yet, so that’s something.”

He heard Bill laugh, “Tha-that’s good. Im sorry i couldn’t c-come tonight, I was really l-lo-looking forward to it.”

“Don’t worry, Bill, I think I can handle them by now. I know you would’ve come if you had the chance,” Stanley said, though he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. “Maybe next weekend.”

“Maybe...Anyways I g-go-gotta go know, Stan. See you at the Barrows on m-Monday.”

“Bye, Bill.”

“Hey, Stan! Get your skinny boy ass in here to help me figure out which movie to watch first,” Richie yelled out from the living room. 

Stanley was shocked by the sheer magnitude and size of the fortress once he entered, before crawling under the entrance way and joining Richie. The boy had brought all the bowls of candy and a bag of popcorn in with him, nearly laid out in front of the tv but behind the movie options.

“Pick wisely, my friend, because if the first movie sucks ass it’ll be all your fault,” Richie told him.

“I saw we start with The Shining because I heard it was the best,” Stanley said as he pointed, “Then Teenage Werewolf, Alien, and if we have time we’ll watch The Thing.”

Richie pushed his glasses up and hummed in concentration, deeply considering Stanley’s suggestions. He never cared much for Aliens or Things, so it made sense that those be the ones they hold off for later when they might change their minds and do something else. However, he had a dreaded fear about the Werewolf movie. He pushed it off and nodded.

“Very good, Stan, very good. You’re wise in your young age, my friend.”

Stanley rolled his eyes, “Whatever, Rich. Where’s Eddie?”

“Insisted on taking a shower. He said we could start without him...”

Richie paused because he didn’t want to start without the other boy. How else could he tease and make fun of Eddie for being scared? He wasn’t sure how to voice this weird sense of reluctance, but luckily Stan could already tell what he was thinking.

“I say we wait.”

Richie shrugged, but was silently pleased with that answer as he sprawled out against the blankets to get comfortable. The boys made small talk and munched on snacks until Eddie arrived, hair wet and changed into his superhero pajamas. He was relieved they decided to wait for him, though his nervousness at the impending thriller was increasing as he watched Richie slipped the cassette into the VCR.

“What the fuck?! Get the hell outta there! What is wrong with this fucking kid, just kill him woman and leave,” Eddie screamed out as the movie progressed, biting his nails and unconsciously leaning closer into Richie’s side. “Fuck that shit!”

Richie laughed softly, patting Eddie’s shoulder in comfort and moved closer as well. By the time they were halfway through the movie Eddie was almost completely curled into Richie’s side, face hidden halfway between the blanket and Richie’s shoulder. Stan noticed this as he watched the movie on his own, occasionally jumping but relatively unharmed.

They were used to being close during moments like these, watching movies or in the dark. It felt easier to allow themselves to relax when they had the escape of the darkness and excuse of the horror. To be close without overthinking, although they were both incredibly aware of the others presence, butterflies in their stomachs and blush across their cheeks. Occasionally Richie would glance over to Stan, worried that he’d find disgusted eyes but seeing that the other boy was busy watching the movie.

He’d done this often when him and Eddie were too close, at least compared to how normal friends would be. He’d look over to see if Stan or Bill had noticed, if they were judging or grossed out, but he never found what he feared. Most of the time they seemed oblivious (though they never really were) and other times they just smiled as if it were completely normal. Then again, to them it was.

“What the fuck is Redrum?” Richie asked.

“It’s murder backwards,” Stan explained.

“That’s fucking stupid. Ooo scary, a kid writing murder backwards because he’s a fucking idiot who doesn’t know how to spell,” Richie said, rolling his eyes. “Redrum, Redrum, I’m a big dumb dumb!” He said in the same voice as the kid.

Eddie laughed, “Beep Beep, Richie.”

That’s all Richie wanted to do, make Eddie laugh to distract him from the movie. He loved horror movies and appreciated that Eddie humored him, but was also aware that it wasn’t something Eddie actually enjoyed. He’d done it every time they’ve watched horror films together, making sure to pop a joke more than he normally would’ve or to whisper something stupid that only Eddie could hear and find funny.

“Well that was a stupid ass movie,” Richie said as the credits began to roll.

“The kid was pretty smart, what with the whole snow thing. You would’ve been killed right from the beginning,” Stan argued.

“If I was ever in a horror movie, I would beat the monster to death.”

“No, I agree with Stan. You’d definitely be the first to die,” Eddie laughed as he sat up and pulled the popcorn closer to him.

“No, shitface, you would be. If your asthma didn’t kill you, you’d die of a disease called ‘baby bitch’. You can’t even watch a scary movie let alone survive one.”

“Guys,” Stan interrupts before they could continue their banter. “Can we watch the next one now?”

“I dunno, Stan. Can’t we watch something a little less... scary?” Eddie asked.

Stan ignored him and pushed in the next film, so Richie settles back down a little closer to Eddie and said, “Don’t worry, Eddie my love, I’ll protect you from the big bad werewolf.”

_20 Minutes Later_

“Holy Shit!” Richie screeched, ducking his head into Eddie’s shoulder underneath the blanket.

“Fucking Fuck!” Eddie cried out as well, reaching for his inhaler.

Stan sighed harder, scared but not as dramatic as the boys beside him, and laid down. Both boys were clinging onto each other, legs and arms tangled as they watched the werewolf, and calling out at every other things. Eddie wasn’t as frightened as he had been before, but for some reason the fact that Richie was made him more worried. Not only that, but he secretly liked the fact that every time he jumped or cried out, Richie would cling onto him harder.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Richie lied as the credits began to roll.

“Rich, you were basically crying,” Eddie mumbled as he reluctantly pulled away to stop the film from continuing. “What’d you think of it, Stan?”

They both looked to their side to see that Stanley had fallen asleep in the middle of the movie without them realizing it. He was sprawled out lazily, small snores leaving with every other breath. They looked at each other then back at the television before silently agreeing that they’ve had enough scary movies for the night.

“I’m gonna head up and take a shower real fast,” Richie said after they exited the fortress. “Then I have one last thing we can do before we go to bed.”

“Alright, Rich,” Eddie yawned, taking the bowls and heading back towards the kitchen.

He grabbed a glass of water and took his nightly pill, smiling to himself as he remembered the feeling of Richie’s arm around him. The warmth and how comforting it felt. Then he remembered everything that came along with these feelings, the fact that being gay meant being sick and horrible and corrupt, so he pushed down those feelings with a sigh.

Eddie began doing the dishes and was almost finished by the time Richie came back, wet hair and comic themed pajamas. Despite his attempts, the first thing that came to mind in that moment was how cute he thought Richie looked. He paused to reach for his inhaler before finishing washing the final bowl.

“Why the fuck are you washing dishes, Eds?” Richie asked, leaning against the counter.

“Because I know you never will,” Eddie said in return. 

“Well Eddie Spaghetti, we have one last adventure before the night is over and it’s not wiping down the counters. Come on.”

“Can you stop with the fucking nickname? It’s not even that funny or creative, douchebag.”

“I think it’s cute for a cutie like you.”

Eddie blushed but said nothing as he continued to follow Richie up the stairs. He was surprised to see a mattress positioned at the top, before reality dawned on him. He groaned, remembering how Richie had talked for months about wanting to turn his stairs into a personal slide. His stomach rumbled and churned at the thought.

“Fuck no,” He exclaimed before Richie could even say his plan. “You’re fucking insane if you think I’m going down the stairs on that.”

“Eds,” Richie sighed as he grabbed hold of Eddie’s shoulders, “Don’t be such a pussy. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I could break an arm, or a leg, or my fucking neck! I could die. No, fuck this shit.”

“Come on,” Richie said as he sat down at the front, patting the space behind him. “All you gotta do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. Worst case scenario I’m the one who dies.”

“That’s a terrible argument!”

“Come on, Eddie Spaghetti, you’re braver than you think. Trust me, okay? This will be fucking awesome.”

Eddie hesitated a moment before seeing the sincerity on Richie’s face and caved, shaking his head at his own idiocy. He climbed up and sat behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around Richie’s stomach. Nervousness, at both the proximity and the situation, buzzed beneath his skin as Richie pushed the mattress forward until it began to tilt.

“Shit, Shit, Shit!” Eddie mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

The mattress leaves forward slowly before Richie gave one last push that sent them forward. The ride was smooth and quickly picked up speed, until Richie suddenly realized a second too late that he didn’t consider about how to approach the stop. The second they reach the bottom they hurtled straight forward until crashing roughly into the coat hanger, stopping them with a tumble. They both groaned as they slipped off the mattress, Eddie flying to the floor whereas Richie was sent straight into the wall.

“Shit,” He groaned, rubbing his forehead and nose. “That was fucking amazing!”

Eddie sighed exasperated as he looked at the other boy, rubbing his arm where it took the impact. Then he nodded in agreement and began to laugh, Richie soon joining in. They sat in the center of the hallway, random coats fallen over them, laughing in a tired but glorious moment.

“We’re gonna have to do this shit again,” Richie exclaimed as he stood up, offering his hand to help Eddie as well. “With Big Bill and Stan.”

“Yeah, Rich. Come on, let’s clean this shit up and go to bed.”

Together they worked, occasionally teasing and joking, on rehanging the coats and pushing the mattress back upstairs and into the spare room. Then they stumbled down stairs and into the fortress again, where Stan remained blissfully asleep and unaware. Laying down they stared into the dark just listening to the other breathe, relishing these last few moments of complete openness before the morning cake and they’d have to pretend again.

Richie’s hand scooted over in the dark until it bumped into Eddie’s, pinkies overlapping one another. They said nothing, but they both knew this wasn’t an accident. Richie took a deep breath before moving his hand slowly until it laid completely over Eddie’s, not holding it but almost enough. Perfectly enough.

“Goodnight, Rich.” Eddie whispered, moving over so his forearm rested against the others. 

“Goodnight, Eddie Spaghetti.”


End file.
